


Judged by the Dragon

by Samifery



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Don't Take This Too Seriously, Everybody's in Overwatch already, Fluff, Hanzo has feelings, M/M, More fluff and ridiculousness, Noodle Dragons, Possible background ships, a lot of fluff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-12
Updated: 2017-04-28
Packaged: 2018-09-23 20:18:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 17,685
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9674453
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Samifery/pseuds/Samifery
Summary: “Man, I didn’t know ya could shrink your spirit dragons like this. How come ya haven’t brought them out before?” McCree asked, watching the two creatures play with adoring look on his face. Hanzo petulantly ignored the voice in the back of his head telling him he wanted McCree to look athimlike that, and decided to answer instead.“I cannot. They come and go as they please, all I can do is ask for them to appear. If they choose not to show, there is nothing I can do about it,” he said, frowning at the dragons when they stopped their playing simply to look at him with blank expressions yet again. Then, in unison, both of them moved their eyes to McCree, who chuckled at their antics. “They have not manifested like this in almost thirty years. I do not know why they are here.” Hanzo added.--In other words, Hanzo wakes up with surprise dragons while trying to deal with Feelings™.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This is a work I started because of a random, lonely idea, which then turned into an actual fic. Fair warning: I have no idea where I'm going with this, how long it will be, or what will happen. All I can promise is fluff, silliness, noodle dragons, and a happy ending.
> 
> In this universe recall happened two years ago, Hanzo joined a year after it, and most, if not all, of the OW characters have already joined before the story begins.
> 
> This is my first attempt at writing Overwatch, so bare with me if things get cliche or OOC. This first chapter is just a prologue, the rest of the story is unlikely to be as serious as it seems from this. Like really, really unlikely.
> 
> You can find me from [Tumblr](http://hanzoissated.tumblr.com/) if you want to!
> 
> Note that the rating might change later to Explicit depending on what I choose to do with things!

The Shimada clan had always passed down a plethora of stories and legends along with its otherwise grim heritage. Unsurprisingly, most of the tales revolved around the dragons of the family; where they had come from, why they had chosen them, how for each new Shimada a new dragon would appear, why some had more than just one. Some of these stories seemed to explain the phenomenon better than any other attempt to crack the mystery. Some, however, sounded like little more than just silly old tales created to entertain and scare the children they were told to; made up to keep them in line and stay respectful of the ancient beasts blessed for the Shimada clan, as well as grant the elders a way to make sure the younger Shimada's wouldn’t do anything without their guidance.

One the stories Hanzo had always pegged to be a ridiculous warning to keep them loyal to the clan spoke of the dragons’ choice to accept, or deny, a new family member. While the children born to the family were always tied to the Shimada clan by blood, the love interests of the Shimada’s were not. According to the story, when a Shimada chose a life partner, their dragon would descent from the heavens to give its judgement. Would it deem the person worthy, it would deliver its blessing upon them for the lifetime. Would it judge them unworthy, the dragon would consume them with the rage it only reserved for its enemies.

When Hanzo and Genji had asked about the tale as young boys, their relatives had always had the wildest stories to tell them of their own experiences. From quick and happy blessings to horrifying and scarring scenes of loss and murder, almost all of the older Shimada’s seemed to have their own little anecdotes pertaining the legend. To Hanzo, most of them had sounded made up and unrealistic. His uncle had once told him how it had taken whole of three years for his dragon to decide on his fiancee; something he simply couldn’t imagine no matter how hard he tried. Having your dragon keep both you and the person of significance under its watchful eye that long without leaving at any point sounded too surreal to be true.

As the years passed and the times changed without an incident suggesting the legend was true, Hanzo slowly forgot about the tale and its looming threat of losing a loved one to his very own celestial allies. Without his family around, there was no one to remind him of the tales of his past, nor the duties he had left behind, and so the idea of finding a life partner had been lost to him as well. He didn’t think the topic would ever become relevant in his potentially very short and dangerous life. He didn’t believe anyone would ever willingly risk even a glance towards the former master of the clan of assassins; even less so as he trailed his very alive brother’s footsteps all the way to the Overwatch Watchpoint in Gibraltar to dedicate his life to do as Genji had wanted him to; to find redemption and honor through his actions.

Unfortunately, as far as the legends went, Hanzo had been wrong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The first chapter is almost done and will most likely be published soon enough! It will also be a lot longer than this, I promise!


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hanzo discovers feelings and dragons appear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The actual story starts!
> 
> I'm overwhelmed by the reaction to my little prologue, honestly I didn't expect much more than just a kudo or two, but boy have you guys surprised me! I hope you will like what's coming! Things are fluffy and stuff is ridiculous.
> 
> Hope you guys enjoy!

It wasn’t unusual for the heroes of Overwatch to throw a party after a successful mission. It had, in fact, become a tradition among them over time. Starting when the UN had reinstated their status after a team had single handedly saved most of the committee from a Talon attack, the residents of the new headquarters in Gibraltar had grown to wait for the chances to kick back, relax, and celebrate when things happened to go particularly well.

It had been a tough year for him, Hanzo mused as he watched his brother laughing with Hana and Lúcio from his private corner on the other side of the room. Genji had removed his faceplate and most of his helmet, revealing his bright green hair for all to see. Why the cyborg had decided to dye his hair neon green once again was beyond him - but he had to admit, if only silently to himself, that the color fit the man.

Hanzo huffed to himself and took a sip from his drink - a red cup of bourbon somebody had at some point deposited in his hand - and marvelled at the fact that Genji was, in fact, a man now. At first he had had difficulty accepting his younger brother as anything but the kid he had once known, but after seeing him with Overwatch he had had no choice in the matter. A small tweak of nostalgia floated to his chest as he continued observing the trio. He wondered if it had been faith the both of them had ended up here, with the people he now tentatively called a family. Nothing like the one he had been born to, but something much, much more real.

“Did I tell ya I like your new look?”

Hanzo was startled out of his musings at the smooth voice. He snapped his sharp glare up at the interruptor. A warm, slightly crooked grin greeted him from a flush-tinted, handsome face. His eyes moved slowly up from the smile to regard the soft brown eyes looking at him with a hint of tipsiness in them.

Jesse McCree was an idiot - or so Hanzo told himself and everyone who caught him staring at the self proclaimed cowboy a little too long. After all, there was nothing wrong with appreciating the ruggedly good looks or the surprisingly compelling scruffiness of the man. Following the lines of the softly muscular body that was revealed when McCree decided to remove his serape and chest armor didn’t mean the owner of the said body was worthy of it. He was pleasant to look at; that was all there was to it, Hanzo thought to himself as his scowl swept over the ever present smile again before returning to the narrow eyes.

“You can direct your compliments to Genji. It was mostly his idea,” Hanzo said stiffly, willing the rising heat on his face not to show itself. It didn’t mean anything, he was simply unfamiliar with receiving compliments. The butterflies dancing inside his stomach meant nothing either - he must have eaten something that didn’t agree with him. Tearing his dark gaze from the cowboy that had apparently decided to keep him company, Hanzo threw a glare at the cup clutched in his hand. The fault was probably in the bourbon. It was, after all, McCree’s favourite - even the brand was correct, Hanzo noted in the back of his mind. He could taste the telltale mix of cinnamon and caramel of it. He didn’t question why he recognized it so easily.

“Naw, but it ain’t him right here pulling it off,” McCree replied, leaning against the wall next to him and throwing a glance towards the cyborg in question. His grin turned into a soft smile as he gazed towards the trio Hanzo had been following earlier. Lifting his eyes, Hanzo found Lena had joined them, the four now huddled together conspiratorially.

“They’ve been doin’ a lot of that lately. Ever wonder what’s it about?” McCree asked, squinting at the group thoughtfully. Hanzo watched him adjust the lip of his hat from the corner of his eye, before quickly moving his gaze back to the other side of the room. He could have sworn he saw Genji’s eyes flicker away from his own, just before the cyborg’s mouth broke into a wide grin and he leaned down to talk to his comrades. Peculiar. Were they talking about him?

Hanzo glanced at McCree again, wondering if the rest of the room shared his sentiment of his new look. It wasn’t anything too special, the archer thought; at the moment he was wearing a simple black T-shirt that hugged his muscles loosely, with well fitting dark jeans. He had tied what was left of his hair back to a loop with a single hair tie, opting out of using his golden scarf with the rest of his old clothing. The most shocking changes, he was certain, were the new earrings and the bridge piercing he had caught multiple people ogling at with varying expressions. It was the biggest makeover Hanzo had ever given to himself in all his life, and even if he kept telling himself he didn’t care about others’ opinions, it still made him self conscious. McCree seemed to like it. Not that it mattered what the cowboy thought. At all. Hanzo blamed his rising blush on the alcohol this time, hiding his face by taking another sip from his cup. The burn would have been a welcome distraction had it not reminded him that, again, it was McCree’s favourite.

“I reckon they’re up to something,” McCree commented, still watching the group with an amused smile playing on his soft lips. They weren’t sporting a cigar this time around, most likely thanks to Angela’s nagging about it last time she caught him smoking inside. After that, those lips had been void of any tobacco products, even unlit ones, whenever the cowboy thought he might encounter the glare of their resident angel. “Don’t you?”

“Hm.”

“You know how kids are, always up to somethin’.”

“Yes.”

“Not that any of them are really kids anymore.”

“No.”

“Like with Genji, he’s all grown up now, but I can’t shake the image of him ten years ago from my head.”

“Mm.”

“And Lena, she’s young, but damn if she’s been an actual kid in years.”

Hanzo didn’t reply.

There was a pause in the conversation, and for a second he thought McCree had given up on trying to talk to him. He could see the cowboy glancing at his way thoughtfully, like trying to figure him out. Hanzo kept his gaze directed strictly towards the group they - or McCree, more accurately - were talking about.

“Bet they’re talking ‘bout you and how good your ass looks in those jeans,” McCree blurted, throwing a cheeky grin at his way. Hanzo spluttered, nearly choked on his drink, and awarded McCree with a scathing glare. Had he heard correctly? Had the cowboy been checking him out, or was it simply a jest? Did he truly think what he had said?

“Excuse me?” Hanzo asked hoarsely, staring at him with such an incredulous expression it made McCree take a step back and lift his hands up in surrender.

“Just kiddin’, dar-, uh, Hanzo, thought it might get you talkin’ a bit more,” he said with a guarded look on his scruffy face. Like he feared Hanzo might sick his dragons on him any second now. But the archer could do nothing but stare at him, his face set somewhere between a scowl and suspicious disbelief. “I’ll just, uh, I’m gonna… I gotta help, uh, someone with, uh, somethin’, um… yeah.” With that, a suddenly red faced McCree escaped from Hanzo’s little corner like he was being chased, fumbling over an empty crate of beer bottles, and leaving the archer alone blinking after him.

“...what,” Hanzo whispered to himself, his brain helpfully kicking up the gear to overanalyze every bit of the conversation just passed. Had McCree come to him just to talk about how he looked or was the quip what he claimed it had been? Did he mean his words? Was he being truly sincere? Had he blushed before he had left? Was there a possibility McCree liked him? Did he like the possibility that McCree liked him? No, of course not, that would be stupid. He didn’t like McCree. McCree was a caricature, a foolish idiot who cracked bad jokes and smelled of cigars and soft wool and pine and crackling fire, like a cozy fireplace during a cold winter night when you wrapped yourself in his serape and leaned against his surprisingly soft frame with his arms around you, leaning into a-

Hanzo gasped and dropped his cup. Dark, stormy eyes wide and horrified, his mouth opening slightly as his jaw slackened, the realization hit him through all the layers of denial he had carefully built to protect himself. The cup hit the floor with a sound that was buried under the music and chatter around the room, the remainders of his drink sloshing on the rock floor.

He didn’t know how he managed to get from the party to his own room. He was sure he had ignored at least three people attempting to talk to him during his departure in his haze, but he couldn’t put a face or voice to any of them. He couldn’t pinpoint the moment when he had climbed to his bed and laid down, or how long he had stared at the blank grey ceiling of his dark room, or when he had finally fallen asleep with one single thought hammering around in his brain; _I am in love with Jesse McCree_.

 

*

 

Hanzo woke up to an odd weight pushing him down. It wasn’t exactly unpleasant, or even unfamiliar; a feeling he knew, but couldn’t place. All he knew was that he did not want to open his eyes and face the inevitable hangover he could feel approaching; but the longer he stayed still the more sluggy ideas of just what was pressing him down surfaced. With a jolt of sudden panic, Hanzo opened his eyes. There was something silky and light resting on his face, obscuring his view of the room. Like white hair, he thought, frowning. A scent like clear air with a hint of fresh mint and an underside of lightning pushed into his consciousness. Tugging his right hand from under something heavy, he brushed the shimmering strands away from his face and looked down.

Hanzo huffed in disbelief. Just under his chin was a part of a huge, snakelike body, crackling blue and breathtakingly beautiful. He could see a short leg ending in humongous claws sprawling to his right, while the tail end of the beast looped on the bed and returned to rest the very end of the fluffy tail on his face. It was all he could see from behind the scaly side and the silky tuft of a mane decorating the back of the dragon sleeping on top of him. Even so he was getting slowly more and more aware of the hot breath ghosting next to his right thigh. It had to be a dream.

Grunting, Hanzo pulled his other arm from under the dragon with some difficulty, and pushed at the scaly side so he could sit up properly. The dragon on him let out a soft growl and shifted, wrapping its tail around his upper body like it didn’t want to let him go. Hanzo lifted an eyebrow at the suspiciously snuggly dragon, poking its side with a finger experimentally. It didn’t seem to care its master wanted to leave the bed in the slightest. He shoved at the dragon again. It tightened its grip and huffed out a cloud of hot breath.

“Get off me,” Hanzo tried in Japanese, slowly growing irritated. The dragon ignored him. He couldn’t for the life of him figure out why one - not two, just one - of his dragons had decided to manifest itself on top of him. He hadn’t seen either of them outside of battle in ages; if his memory served right, not after he had turned eleven. He had forgotten how cuddly they could be, how petlike they sometimes acted. Like cats or dogs with names, and…

Hanzo bit his lower lip, staring at the snoozing beast thoughtfully. He had given them names, when he had been a child. Or had they told him what to call them? He wasn’t sure. It had been years since he had last thought of the dragons in the light of pets or household companions. Years since he had touched the corporeal body of either of them. Had they changed? Would they still react to him like they had when he had been just a boy? Would they remember the names he had used for them? There was no harm in trying, he thought, and cleared his throat.

“...Sora?” Hanzo asked tentatively. He hadn’t expected anything to happen, and so it surprised him greatly when the dragon lounging on top of him shifted, and slowly lifted its head from under the blanket to look at him. Hanzo blinked. The dragon tilted its head.

“Uh. Good morning?” he said, watching the dragon uncertainly. For a moment, it simply stared at him. Then, a deep purring sound filled the room, bouncing off the walls around him. Hanzo deflated and relaxed like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. He lifted a hand and placed it on the dragon’s silky mane, giving a few strokes to see how it would react. The dragon - Sora, Hanzo reminded himself - lowered its head back on the bed and closed its eyes apparently satisfied.

“What are you doing here?”

“ _Hrrrrrr_.”

“Where is… where is Haru?”

“ _Rrrrrr._ ”

Hanzo sighed. He wouldn’t be getting any tangible answers out of Sora. He was starting to understand why last night McCree had-

“McCree,” Hanzo gasped out loud, his heart jolting in his chest at the sudden memory of the night previous, of the cowboy and the realization that had hit him. Sora lifted its heavy head off the bedding again, tilting it at its master. Questioning. Hanzo muttered curses under his breath and rubbed his face tiredly. At least the hangover hadn’t hit him like it usually did. He suspected that had something to do with the appearance of the dragon; a small consolation next to all the other feelings jumbling on top of him. Sora didn’t offer any help to the matter of his heart suddenly pounding against his ribcage, but simply stared at him with a blank look. He didn’t have time for this. He needed to figure out what to do with the dragon first; his newly realized feelings towards certain idiots would just have to wait.

Trying his luck again, Hanzo pushed at the side of the dragon’s body, wiggling his way from under the weight of it and almost crashing on the floor when it suddenly moved to let him free. Grumbling under his breath, he got up and pulled on the nearest clean clothes he could find, stopping in front of his room door to assess the situation again while he tied his hair back. Sora was still laying on his bed, woven between the sheets and looking comfortable following his movements with its gaze. Only when he placed his hand on the door handle did the dragon react, unfolding from the bed and slithering on the floor like a giant snake. Hanzo noticed none of it actually hit the floor; instead, the dragon was floating a few inches in the air.

“You want to come with me,” he more stated than asked, lifting an eyebrow.

“ _Rrrrrr._ ”

“You are too big. You will not fit-,” Hanzo cut himself off abruptly when the dragon suddenly began to shrink all on its own, until all that was left was a tiny version of it about the size of a small - but long - cat. He sighed again. “I see.” The dragon purred again as a way of an answer, and floated up to rest on his shoulder as he opened the door and left the room.

By the time Hanzo found his way to the kitchen for breakfast, Sora had pulled his hair tie loose and was contently chewing it in its tiny jaws. It left his unbrushed hair spilling messily on one side of his head, the other being half-covered by the bushy tail of the tiny dragon. He didn’t have the energy to fight with the creature for its new treasure, and so he accepted the faith of looking like a hangover-y mess when he stepped through the doorway to the kitchen.

The room was busier than Hanzo had expected at this time of the morning; one end of the large dining table was covered in various ingredients for what looked like the beginnings of sushi. Lúcio was currently commanding the stove, keeping an eye on both a deep fryer and two different pots full of rice. Mei was sitting on the side of the table whistling happily to herself and rolling maki with Zarya at her side, following her actions and looking fascinated. Reinhardt sat few seats away from them, leaning on his hand and staring wistfully at the food being prepared. Ana sat next to him patting his arm and talking to him with a low voice, an amused smile on her lips. At the very end of the table sat Hana, flailing her arms and talking loudly to none other than confused and frustrated looking McCree.

Hanzo’s heart jumped in his chest and he stopped at the doorway to watch as Hana shouted for McCree to stop, swatting his hands away and pointing at the plate in front of him. With uncertain, but focused bite to his lip, McCree pointed something else and looked at Hana hopefully. A look of accomplishment crossed his features when Hana nodded and let the cowboy add whatever he was adding on the plate. A flash of affection Hanzo didn’t want to acknowledge reared in his chest, and he quickly moved closer and averted his eyes from the scruffy man. He did not have time for his unfortunate feelings.

“Oh, you found another one!” piped up the cheery voice of Mei, whose big round eyes were staring at his shoulder. Sora looked up with a small _purrr?_ and regarded the girl with its head cocked to the side. There was a collective _awwww_ in the room, which Hanzo decided to ignore in favour of Mei’s exclamation.

“What do you mean, ‘another one’?” he asked warily, eyeing the cluttered table and the people around it. Like being summoned, another small dragon emerged from under McCree’s arm, a piece of raw fish tugged into its snout. This one looked slightly different from Sora; while most of its body were the same light, crackling blue, its belly, mane, and horns were a soft golden yellow instead of white. Hanzo sighed and rubbed his eyes tiredly. He should have known Haru was somewhere nearby, never having seen the two dragons too far away from each other.

“What are you doing?” Hanzo questioned the creature in Japanese, closing his eyes when the only answer he got was Haru gurgling and then swallowing the piece of fish whole. Typical.

“Hold up, are these two what I think they are?” McCree asked suddenly, his surprised gaze jumping between the dragon on the table and the other perched on Hanzo’s shoulder. Hanzo braved a look at the cowboy’s face, finding his soft brown eyes stopping to look directly at him next. A new rush of warmth started from the pit of his stomach and threatened to travel all the way to his cheeks. Hanzo quickly averted his gaze, walking closer to the end of the table and opting to sit on the side of it near Hana.

Sora decided that was a cue for it to slither its way down his tattooed arm and join its twin between the containers of food, purring softly at Haru and offering Hanzo’s chewed up hair tie to it. Haru purred back, biting at the hair tie experimentally before starting a tug of war match with Sora. There was another collective _aww_ around the kitchen, followed by a heavy sigh from Hanzo.

“Man, I didn’t know ya could shrink your spirit dragons like this. How come ya haven’t brought them out before?” McCree asked, watching the two creatures play with an adoring look on his face. Hanzo petulantly ignored the voice in the back of his head telling him he wanted McCree to look at _him_ like that, and decided to answer instead.

“I cannot. They come and go as they please, all I can do is ask for them to appear. If they choose not to show, there is nothing I can do about it,” he said, frowning at the dragons when they stopped their playing simply to look at him with blank expressions yet again. Then, in unison, both of them moved their eyes to McCree, who chuckled at their antics. “They have not manifested like this in almost thirty years. I do not know why they are here.” Hanzo added. There was a tired, frustrated edge to his voice as he spoke. There was no follow-up questions from anyone about their appearance, fortunately. Hanzo wasn’t sure he had the energy to answer questions he didn’t know the answers to.

“So what are they called?” Hana broke the short silence during which everybody had done nothing but stared at the dragons. Hanzo sighed again. Of course she would want to know their names.

“This one is Sora,” he said, pointing at the dragon closest to him and getting another purr from it, “and this is Haru,” he continued, pointing at the second one. Haru snapped its jaws at him playfully, causing Sora to jump it and initiate a wrestling match.

“Haru? Ain’t that the dragon kid from that old movie Reinhardt made us watch a while ago?” McCree asked, scratching at his beard thoughtfully.

“Ah, Spirited Away! A classic!” the German supplied, perking up. “But no, his name was Haku!” Reinhardt added, deflating back to his seat when nobody else seemed to share his enthusiasm. Hanzo huffed irritably, opening his mouth to reply, but got cut off when a new voice answered instead.

“It means spring. And Sora, sky. Hanzo never had much imagination when it came to naming things.” A fond chuckle followed the declaration, and once again everyone in the room lifted their gazes to look at the man entering the kitchen. Near silent steps brought Genji to sit at the table next to his brother.

Hanzo scowled at him. “They descended from the heavens when they came to me, on the clearest April day, the names are only fitting,” he said sullenly, and then squinted, “besides, you are one to talk, you named yours Airi.” Hanzo smirked. “ _Love pear_ ,” he announced victoriously. Genji huffed, offended.

“You cannot translate it like that! Airi is a beautiful name,” the cyborg protested, sounding exasperated behind his mask.

“You chose the name because you thought your dragon was the same color as a pear, Genji.”

“I did not!”

“I was there, brother. I remember it. You were very proud of yourself and your cleverness.”

“I… you…” For a moment, Genji seemed to be struggling with what to say, before he gave up with a heavy sigh and dropped his head on the table, defeated. Hanzo let himself wallow in the glory of victory for a moment, grinning at his deflated brother. It was broken by a barely contained snickering that reminded him of the company he was in, and quickly he schooled his features back into a resting scowl with a soft cough.

Haru chose the moment to float to Genji, tilting its head and poking his faceplate gently with its snout. The cyborg chuckled and reached for his visor, removing it in favour of letting the small dragon push its body against his face affectionately. Haru squealed happily, obviously pleased to have Genji there with them. It had always been much more affectionate with others than Sora had, especially with his little brother.

“It is good to see you too. It has been too long. I have missed you,” Genji said softly, scratching the dragon behind its ear with a gentle smile on his scarred face. Yet another collective _aww_ made Hanzo lift his gaze to the others around the kitchen, all staring at the brothers and the dragons. Nobody seemed to care why the dragons were there, or what their appearance could imply; none but Hanzo, who felt unease rise in his chest at the unknown.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I chose to make the dragons very different from each other to reflect different sides of Hanzo. While Sora definitely seems more like him on the outside, he does have his playful, more relaxed side aswell. What they look like, well, I based Sora more on the in-game Dragonstrike dragons, and Haru more to the Dragon of the South Wind from the Dragons cinematic. While neither look exactly like those, it is where they got their coloring.
> 
> What comes to Genji's dragon, I really do like the name Airi, but I just had to make that joke. And let's face it, Genji would manage to name his dragon with something like that.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hanzo is a storm of emotion, McCree is a puppy, and Genji knows too much.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much everyone who has left kudos or commented or even read this story! I can't believe the reaction I've gotten! Now I want to say that while I don't reply to every comment, I read every single one of them (multiple times, honestly), and mostly don't reply because I don't know what to say other than thank you, thank you, thank you! They really do make my day!
> 
> I hope you enjoy this second chapter!

The worst thing about having the dragons around was definitely the reactions of the Overwatch agents around him, Hanzo decided. It became quickly obvious to him that he couldn’t take three steps in any direction without someone appearing at his side to marvel at the dragons floating around them. He wasn’t as antisocial as he had been when he first arrived to the watchpoint, but as the morning passed into the day he started to feel a tugging need to get away from the people buzzing around him. The constant _awww_ ing and unnecessary attention was getting on his nerves too much.

It didn’t help that Haru had seemed to have taken a liking to McCree. While Sora was content in keeping close to Hanzo, mostly perched up on his shoulder watching people bustling around, Haru stayed at McCree’s side. Every now and then the two dragons made their way to each other to purr and chirp lowly like they were changing information, before they returned to their chosen bases near the two men. McCree didn’t seem to mind the small dragon following him and climbing around his body, obviously pleased he had won the creature’s graces instead of anyone else. He kept happily petting the dragon with his big hands, cooing affectionately to it between mouthfuls of food and drink during breakfast. Hanzo was carefully ignoring it all, refusing to acknowledge the small twinge of jealousy he could feel creeping up in his chest.

The dragons didn’t become a problem before Hanzo got up after breakfast, intent on leaving the odd setting and escaping to one of the training ranges so he could clear his head.

The second he passed the door frame out of the kitchen, Haru let out an alarmed screech that made the chatter in the room quiet. The dragon was currently sitting atop of McCree’s hat, curled around it and resting on the rim of it. It was staring intently at Hanzo like wanting him to stay near but unwilling to leave its perch on top of McCree. Hanzo frowned.

“If you want to come with me, you can simply follow,” he said flatly to the dragon in Japanese. Haru let out another whine and doubled back to wrap its small body around McCree’s right hand, only to look at its master again expectantly. Hanzo sighed heavily and rubbed his hand against his forehead, while the cowboy chuckled to himself without a comment. “Then stay if you so wish,” Hanzo deadpanned, and promptly walked out of the room. He ignored the shriek that followed him from the kitchen, but stopped when sharp little teeth bit his ear in retaliation.

Hanzo turned his head to look at Sora. The dragon stared at him with an offended and disappointed look that seemed to drill through his head. He glowered back at the little creature.

“What do you want me to do?”

“ _Rrrrrr_.”

It wasn’t difficult to guess that the dragon was scolding him.

“Of all the things-!” Hanzo started and turned around to walk back into the kitchen, only to walk into a solid wall of muscle that appeared inside the doorframe at the very same moment.

There was a distinct “ _oomph!_ ” from the offender as Hanzo staggered, grabbing a fistful of the first thing he could find with his hands so as not to fall on his face. What he found were soft, muscled arms clad in comfortable fabric, the hands attached to them coming to rest on his hips to steady him against the chest he had walked into.

“Whoa there!”

Hanzo snapped his gaze up at the familiar voice immediately, the situation catching up to him. Jesse McCree was standing in front of him, his whole front pressed flush against his own, looking down at him with his cowboy hat sitting crookedly on top of his head ready to fall off; what was worse, the cowboy tilted his head down just as Hanzo looked up, leaving their faces only mere inches apart from each other. Hanzo could feel McCree’s breath hitch and puff against his face and was suddenly hyper aware of the fact that he would only need to lean that much closer to press his lips on the other man’s; to catch him into a kiss just as McCree had caught him in his arms. His gaze darted to the chapped lips so close to him, slightly parted and inviting, waiting for him to close the gap between them and see how they felt, moved, tasted-

“ _Rrrrrr!_ ”

Hanzo started, practically jumping to the ceiling and shoving McCree forcefully away from him, his face surely redder than the ripest tomato in the middle of July. McCree stumbled, catching himself on the doorframe to not fall on his back, and looking both surprised and winded from the encounter, his cheeks reddening in the process. Hanzo cursed under his breath, finding his bearings.

“Watch where you are going!” he snapped at McCree with a little too much force, uncertain if his flustered irritation was pointed more towards the cowboy or himself. He couldn’t believe he had let the moment linger, couldn’t believe he had been so close kissing that damned joke of a man. That handsome, alluring, warm… Hanzo cut off his thought process and forced his thoughts to dissipate, the glare on his face only increasing in intensity. McCree threw his hands up in surrender, trying to tentatively soothe the apparent rage forming on the archer’s face.

“Sorry, sorry, just that your lil buddy here got real distraught back there when you left. Didn’t think you’d be coming back so soon after,” McCree said, his voice soft and calming. Hanzo felt himself deflate at the tone, the words brushing over him and bringing peace with them. He had overreacted. McCree had done nothing wrong, and he had yet again snapped at the cowboy like a bowstring wound too tight. Hanzo sighed heavily.

“No need to apologize,” he said with a tint of his own unvoiced apology in his words. He glanced at Haru. The dragon was curled loosely around McCree’s neck, staring at him with its piercing gaze intently, like willing him to do whatever it wanted him to. For some reason, it didn’t seem to want to separate from either Hanzo nor McCree, resulting in screeching and, apparently, dragging McCree out of his seat. For a moment Hanzo wondered if the dragons had manifested simply to be a pain in his ass or taunt him for his feelings. And then, he gave up.

“McCree. Would you like to accompany me to the shooting range?” Hanzo asked flatly, looking distinctly like he was suffering from the simple question. The cowboy lit up immediately, the brown eyes sparkling as his easy grin slid back on his face. Hanzo frowned at his heart skipping a beat and ignored the quiet _rrrrr_ coming from his own shoulder. At least Sora didn’t seem to be scheming against him like its twin was. Then again, it had bit his ear just a moment earlier.

“Sure would. Might appease this little fella too if I didn’t get too far from ya,” McCree said and chuckled, scratching Haru’s head and motioning Hanzo to lead the way with his other hand. The cowboy didn’t seem too bothered by the weird behavior of the dragon on him, nor did he seem to mind being a resting place for it either. For a moment Hanzo considered just letting the man adopt the dragon, then shook his head to his odd thought and turned to walk towards the shooting ranges.

McCree fell into step with him comfortably, their shoulders brushing every now and then to Sora’s apparent chagrin. Whenever the red serape draped along McCree’s shoulders came just a little too close, the small dragon would snarl quietly and try to hit it with its claws. It was peculiar how differently the two dragons acted when it came to the cowboy; where Haru seemed intent on keeping him close, Sora didn’t seem to want McCree touching him in any way. There was something definitely off there, and given how the dragons seemed to single out McCree, that something surely had to do with the cowboy specifically.

If only he could get some actual answers out of the two spirits.

Hanzo, lost in his frustrating thoughts, barely noticed McCree dutifully following his every step all the way to his room to pick up his bow, and from there to the training range nearest them. The cowboy seemed content enough tailing him like a lost puppy, not complaining about the detour or the easy silence descending upon them. Hanzo didn’t want to think about the comforting feeling dwelling in his chest at the simple, quiet presence of the other man, or the soft smile lingering on the cowboy’s lips when he glanced at him. The happy, relaxed expression made McCree’s face softer than usual, and Hanzo couldn’t help but steal a few extra glances of that handsome face.

It was an unfortunate distraction, Hanzo noted when they had made their way to the range and started their separate practice sessions. He couldn’t help his gaze wandering ever so often to McCree to watch and study the concentration lined across his face, his steady stance and easiness that only came from years of practice.

He was all but staring, bow loosely hanging in front of him, arrow nocked but forgotten, when he was startled out of his thoughts by a near silent cough.

Hanzo jumped, automatically lifting his bow and pulling the arrow back in an instinct honed by necessity. Another start shook his body when his brain caught up on the sight of the cyborg in front of him. Immediately, he lowered his bow and relaxed the string, picking up the arrow that had been resting there while a fleeting look of old guilt and self-loathing flickered over his features. Genji simply chuckled.

“Did I startle you, brother?” the cyborg asked in Japanese, his tone heavy with obvious smugness. For a moment Hanzo contemplated getting Genji a bell like McCree had so many times suggested the cyborg to wear just to annoy him.

“No,” he denied curtly despite the fact they both knew it was a lie. He wasn’t going to admit he had been ogling at McCree so intently he had stopped paying attention to his surroundings. Genji chuckled again, earning a glare from his big brother.

“Of course I didn’t,” he said. Hanzo didn’t need to see the face under the green visor to know he was smiling widely.

“What do you want?”

“Does a man need a reason to come see his favourite brother?”

“I am your only brother.”

“All the more reason!”

Hanzo gave him an unimpressed look. Genji sighed.

“I came to see if you have yet figured out why your dragons are here,” he explained, tilting his head slightly to the side. Expectant. Hanzo frowned.

“I have not.” Hanzo regarded his brother suspiciously. “Have you?” he asked, tentative hope pooling up to his chest. Maybe Genji had been so casual at the breakfast because he already knew what the appearance of the dragons meant. To his disappointment, Genji shook his head.

“Not for certain,” the cyborg started, “but what I do know is that Airi only manifests without summoning in times of great distress or need. It came to me often after our… falling out, and helped me find peace again.” Hanzo looked away with a pained expression crossing his face at the mention, no matter how delicately Genji put it. Even after having learned to accept, if not forgive, his own actions, the memory still plagued his mind every day. He doubted he could ever truly let go of the self-hatred that came from those memories and thoughts, and he didn’t wish to. It was only right he had to carry the burden, just as Genji had to carry his metal body. Genji ignored his silent reverie, and instead, continued; “I doubt the reason is same, however. Still, I do have a theory. Have you not considered the stories of our childhood?”

Hanzo frowned and looked down at his tattoo. It hadn’t crossed his mind to look for an answer from the legends told to them, and now he felt foolish for dismissing such an obvious source of information. He remained silent for a moment, going through all the stories he could remember, but in the end, he came up with nothing. The crease between his brows deepened the longer he wracked his brain without solutions. Eventually, Genji seemed to grow frustrated enough to interrupt.

“Really, brother, you cannot think of anything?” the cyborg asked flatly, managing to sound both pitying and amused at the same time. Hanzo grunted, lifting his gaze to him.

“Tell me, then, if you already have an answer,” he said curtly, glaring at Genji for good measure. His brother seemed far too happy about it, even if he couldn’t see his face. Too smug for his own good, Hanzo decided, when Genji took a short pause and then sighed dramatically before revealing anything.

“Obviously,” the cyborg started, “they are here to give their judgement regarding your chosen life partner,” he finished. The declaration would have sounded formal, had Genji’s composure not cracked at the end with a snicker escaping him. It turned into a full blown laughter when Hanzo’s brows shot up and a horrified expression took over his face, before he managed to school his features back into a deep frown.

“Do not be ridiculous, Genji. Those stories were nothing but scares to keep us from undesirable love affairs! They are not true,” he scoffed. “Besides, even if there were some truth to them, it would not explain why the dragons are here now. I have not chosen any partners, romantic or otherwise, and that wouldn’t explain why… they would… be…” Hanzo’s voice faded away as his gaze dropped on the cowboy multiple paces away from them, happily taking trickshots at the bots buzzing around the shooting range, Haru curled around his shoulders. “Oh no.” He didn’t realize he had said the two words aloud before Genji replied, practically radiating mirth.

“Oh yes, brother,” he announced, the grin hidden behind his visor clear on his voice. “I didn’t think you two had gotten that far already, but I have to say I am glad I do not have to watch your frustrating dance anymore,” Genji said happily, slapping a hand on Hanzo’s clothed shoulder and squeezing encouragingly. “I would have hoped you would have told me yourself, but I guess you wanted to hold on and make sure it would-”

“We are not together!” Hanzo interrupted when he found his voice again from the pure shock of realization. Genji stilled at the outburst, tilting his head questioningly for his brother to explain. Hanzo was glad the conversation was in Japanese and he could be certain McCree wouldn’t understand a word of it even if he heard them. Even with that knowledge, he lowered his voice after his sudden outburst. “We are not a couple, and I have in no way chosen anything! Least of all him! Your theory is wrong and based on old wives’ tales and nothing more!” Hanzo hissed at his brother, all the while panic was rising in his chest. He remembered the stories, but had dismissed them years ago. Yet it was the only explanation that had so far made any sense whatsoever. While he couldn’t say he had chosen McCree as anything, he had to admit to himself they had appeared directly after he had realized his own feelings for the cowboy. But something minor like that surely couldn’t trigger something like this, would it?

Hanzo moved his gaze towards his bare shoulder where Sora was lounging contently, looking as dangerous and alert as a pile of sockpuppets. It didn’t seem to mind its master’s distress, or the topic of the conversation, and even more so didn’t look like it was going to offer any help with the matter. Genji remained silent after his words, his eyes now directed towards McCree with a contemplative tilt to his head. The sudden jumps between joking and seriousness his brother nowadays did still threw Hanzo sometimes, the latter a vast difference to the young boy he had once known. It had taken him a long time to accept, but in situations like these, it was more than welcome.

Swallowing his pride bitterly, Hanzo let out a heavy sigh and forced himself to show his fears to his brother. He might not let anyone else see them, but he had to admit Genji knew him too well to not have guessed already.

“Do you think they might… harm him?” he asked softly, gaze following Genji’s to the blissfully oblivious man farther away from them. He didn’t dare voice the thought that lingered in the back of his mind and made his heart squeeze painfully. Now that the thought of the legend unfolding right before his eyes had been put into his head, he couldn’t shake it out, even with his rational side still claiming it was only a hoax. Still, it was the only explanation he had gotten so far, and at every passing moment it was harder to dismiss.

“I do not know. He holds the affections of both of the only remaining Shimadas, but you know how fickle the dragons can be. They choose for themselves, and we can only wait and see what their judgement in this case ends up being. I have no doubt he is worthy of you, and that his heart holds true, but that is only my opinion. We both know the dragons see the world differently than us mere mortals,” Genji said, tilting his head towards his brother in a gesture that looked sympathetic to Hanzo. “I am sure it will be alright, but if you have not taken your advances on him yet, I would advise you to do so now. I have never before heard a story where the dragons would bring their judgement on a couple that was not a couple at all.”

Hanzo didn’t reply, and Genji didn’t press it. Instead, the cyborg pat him on the back, turned, and silently walked out of the range, leaving Hanzo alone with his troubling thoughts. Or as alone as one could be with another person across the room and two dragons draped on their respective shoulders.

“So, what was that? You two had an argument?” McCree’s voice broke the silence soon after Genji had disappeared through the doorway. Hanzo shook his head, more to clear his thoughts than anything. McCree’s back was still turned to him, his hand holding the Peacekeeper and shooting steadily at the bots and targets. He was relaxed and nonchalant, but Hanzo could hear the faintest touch of worry in his voice. Worry for which brother? Hanzo couldn’t say.

“No, nothing of the sort,” the archer replied, moving closer to the cowboy and eyeing Haru suspiciously as he went. The dragon lifted its head when he approached, looking as innocent as ever. If Hanzo hadn’t witnessed the rage and power the creatures held all his life, he might have thought he was fretting for nothing; but he knew all too well how easily the spirits could tear a man apart. “He was simply giving me some… brotherly advice.” Hanzo grimaced at his own words, relieved the cowboy couldn’t see it. McCree snorted, regardless.

“I reckon you weren’t real happy ‘bout that advice, given all the yellin’ and scowlin’,” he commented and threw a smirk at Hanzo over his shoulder. Another frown found its way back at the archer’s face, this time more contemplative than angry. He hadn’t noticed McCree keeping an eye on them during the conversation or paid any attention to it at all. Of course it wouldn’t be difficult to gather that much from the tones they had used, but even so Hanzo found himself suddenly hoping he was right about McCree not speaking Japanese.

“It was… disconcerting,” the archer said carefully, moving to the side and closer to the other man so he could study his face. McCree huffed out a small laugh.

“I’ll say.” Hanzo could feel his heartbeat quicken and his eyes widening. “What was it about?” McCree asked. It was hard to suppress the sigh of relief, but somehow he managed to mask it as a weak cough.

“My brother, ah, offered a possible reason for the appearance of my spirit dragons,” Hanzo said slowly, considering what and how much he should tell McCree. As much as he loathed to think about it, Genji was right; when he thought back to the stories he had dismissed and almost forgotten completely, none of them talked about couples that weren’t just that. What would happen if he wouldn’t take his chances with McCree now? Even more, what would happen if he did and the cowboy rejected him? Would the dragons simply disappear, or would they stay until their judgement was complete? Or, Hanzo thought with horror, would rejection force them to deem the cowboy unworthy in their eyes? Hanzo shuddered at the thought and quickly pushed it out of his mind, not wanting to even think about the possibility. Only then did he realize McCree had stopped shooting and turned his body towards him, looking expectant like he was waiting for an answer to a question.

“I’m sorry, did you say something?” Hanzo asked sheepishly. McCree studied his face carefully before replying.

“Was just askin’ if you’re feelin’ alright. You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” McCree said softly, concern written plainly in his earnest eyes. His expression was so tender Hanzo felt an ache in his chest, a longing he tried to shove down in vain. It would have only taken one step forward for him to wrap McCree in his embrace, pull him close and bury his face into his neck. He wanted, but he didn’t. He couldn’t. If what Genji had suggested was true, his feelings had already put McCree into danger he shouldn’t be in. It was an unnecessary risk Hanzo wasn’t willing to take in sake of his own undeserved happiness. McCree was too good of a man to be put in such a position, especially without his own consent. If McCree were to die because of him, he wouldn’t be able to take it. He had already caused a near death of one of his loved ones, and now another was in line, all because of his own foolishness. He would have to do something, he would have to-

“Hanzo! Hey!”

Hanzo started at the worried voice and a sudden hand pressing on his cheek. He looked up to find McCree standing right in front of him, the expression on his face a mix of concern and alarm. The hand on his left cheek was a warming presence, a soft thumb trailing over his cheekbone when McCree peered into his eyes. Hanzo was vaguely aware of McCree’s metal hand resting on his clothed shoulder, calm and grounding. For a moment he could only stare and marvel at the feel of McCree’s bare hand cupping his jaw and the comfort that single action brought him. Surely he was not worthy of the undivided care and attention the man in front of him was showing right then and there.

The low purring and chirping sounds coming from his left shoulder pulled him back to the present, and he reluctantly took a step back away from McCree, out of the comforting warmth that left him feeling lost and alone the second it was gone. He glanced at the dragons that seemed to be in some kind of conversation, eyes serious and concentrated. If only he could understand them and know what they were saying to each other, know if they were talking about him and McCree… but he couldn’t. They didn’t offer him any answers at all.

“I am sorry, McCree,” Hanzo said, his voice hoarser than normal. He cleared his throat. “I am not feeling very well.” It wasn’t a lie, but it wasn’t exactly the truth either. How could he tell him what was truly going on?

“That’s fine, darlin’. Ya want me to take you to the medbay?” McCree offered, still looking worried. His hands were hovering in the air where Hanzo had left them as if he was preparing to catch him would he suddenly collapse. The archer managed a weak smile.

“No, thank you, that will not be necessary,” he said, hesitating for a moment before continuing, “perhaps a cup of tea will help.” Hanzo took a step toward the door, and then stopped again. “I would not mind some company,” he added as an invite, a small smile forming on his lips when McCree perked up and took to following him yet again.

As much as Hanzo secretly enjoyed the cowboy’s company, it wasn’t the only reason he wanted to keep him around him now. The horrifying thoughts of the dragons attacking him were still lingering in the back of his mind, and he wanted to be near and ready if something like that would come to pass. If worst came to worst, he would be there, this time to defend instead of attack. He would shield McCree with his life if it was needed.

That was, until night fell, and Hanzo ran out of excuses to stay at his cowboy’s side, instead finding his way to his own room and a fitful, restless night’s sleep plagued by multitude of nightmares.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shout out to [Dorianssecretlibrary](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Dorianssecretlibrary/pseuds/Dorianssecretlibrary) for drawing a [scene from this chapter](https://mchanzoitshighnoon.tumblr.com/post/158717815694/mchanzoitshighnoon-decided-to-draw-one-of-my)! Thank you so much!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Waking up is starting to get unpredictable and Genji has some news.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, an update! Sorry for taking so long, it's been a bit hectic IRL for me. I'll try to get the next chapter out faster than this one! I also went back and fixed a few spelling mistakes and such from the previous chapters, but there's no changes to the story or anything, so don't worry about it. :)
> 
> Thank you so much for everyone that has commented and left kudos, it means so much to me! I'm all over the place about how well this story has been received, I could burst! I hope you guys will like what's to come!
> 
> Enjoy!
> 
> EDIT: I added a tiny tweak to the conversation of Hanzo's dragons' names in the first chapter after getting informed Haru doesn't directly mean sun!

“Hanzo. Hey, Hanzo!”

Hanzo frowned and buried his face deeper into the pillow, tugging his blanket closer to his chin against the voice trying to force its way through his consciousness.

“Hanzo, come on, wake up!”

Why was he being disturbed this early? His alarm hadn’t yet gone off, so it must still be night. Who even had access to his room? He wasn’t going to wake up enough to recognize the owner of the voice; only the fact he knew it well registered as he tried to aggressively keep sleeping.

“Hanzooooo!”

There was a sharp poke to his back accompanied by the whine of his name. Wait, who _did_ have access to his room?

“Go away, Genji!” Hanzo muttered into his pillow, frowning deeply and hoping his nuisance of a brother would just leave him alone. There was no missions scheduled at the moment, no reason to wake up before the clock hit six in the morning. No reason to-

“I ain’t Genji,” the voice replied with a small chuckle, and Hanzo’s eyes shot open when the words registered. A plain white wall with few chips to its paint came to his view, shrouded in the darkness of the night. White strands of silky hair were resting messily on his face, partly shielding his view and reminding him the past day hadn’t been just a weird fever dream. Unfortunately.

Hanzo grunted and tugged a hand from under the oversized dragon sleeping on almost every inch of his body, moving to push himself around so he could face the intruder in his room. Why Sora insisted on sleeping as a huge beast instead of the easy pocket sized creature it had been during the day was beyond him, but at least he didn’t have to fear anyone murdering him in his sleep. That was a plus, he supposed, huffing annoyedly and slapping at the side of the long body pressing him down when he finally managed to turn around under it and see the owner of the suspiciously familiar, drawly voice.

“Uh. Hey there.”

Hanzo’s eyes widened comically as his gaze fell on the intruder, more at the how than the who. McCree was laying next to him on the bed, mere half a feet away from him, a sheepish look on his face as he looked at Hanzo apologetically. On top of him, effectively pinning his entire body on the mattress, was Haru. The blue and gold dragon was as big as its twin, if not even bigger, sleeping directly on top of McCree’s chest in a spiral like it was guarding a precious treasure. One of McCree’s hands, the one that was still flesh and blood, was peeking awkwardly from under a clawed leg, ready to poke Hanzo again if needed. The whole visual was absurd, and all Hanzo could do was stare at the cowboy, who fidgeted slightly and looked like he wanted nothing more than to bolt out of the room as quickly as possible. The crumpled sheets and desperate air hanging around him were clear indication that plan had been tried and deemed futile.

“McCree,” Hanzo said flatly when he finally found his voice, still staring at the bizarre image in front of him. He wasn’t sure what else he could say; asking what the cowboy was doing there would be stupid, given the obvious answer and the rising embarrassment clear on his cheeks even in the dark, but it was the only question that popped in his head. So he stayed quiet and instead let his gaze travel over the man and the dragons to the room to make sure it was, in fact, his own.

Two realizations hit Hanzo at once; first, the location, flooding him with relief when he was able to tell he was still in his own room. Second, his bed was a single. There was no way in hell he and McCree could possibly fit in it comfortably together, let alone with two gigantic dragons taking up twice as much space as either of them. Hanzo craned his neck to see better, taking in the fact that the bed had seemingly become twice the width it had been. Next to that, McCree also seemed to possess his own set of sleeping essentials wrapped in the same generic white sheets all the agents used; a pillow under his messy brown locks, and a blanket haphazardly thrown over his form. Hanzo noted one of McCree’s very bare, hairy leg sticking up over Haru’s tail in an uncomfortable looking angle. Immediately his gaze snapped back up to study the small bits of McCree he could see. The arm that had poked him was just as bare as the leg was. So was the shoulder peeking from behind a cascade of light golden hair. He could feel his face start heating up from the realization that McCree was most likely wearing nothing but boxers. He hoped McCree _was_ wearing boxers.

“...is that your bed?” Hanzo asked, desperate to distract his wandering thoughts from the direction they were headed. He did not want to think about the cowboy naked and sharing a bed with him in a situation like this. It would lead to no good, especially when he was determined to protect the scruffy man from himself and his unruly dragons.

“Uh, I guess so,” McCree replied, looking around him as well as he could given the dragon on top of him was intentionally keeping him pinned with its body.

“...and how, exactly, did it end up in my room?” Hanzo questioned. He doubted McCree had any idea what the answer to that was, but the archer was slowly starting to piece things together inside his head.

“To be honest with ya, I haven’t the faintest, darlin’. I swear I went to sleep in my own room to my own bed with the lil dragon fella on my chest, and when I woke up just a bit ago I was here. Like this.” The cowboy glanced at the scaly creature on top of him. “I guess I technically still am how I fell asleep, just… here… and this lil thing ain’t so little anymore.” He gestured awkwardly towards Haru with his free hand the best he could, which ended up being nothing but a small wave of his hand. Hanzo blinked.

“I see,” he said slowly. It explained why Haru had been so willing to let him part from McCree the night previous after pestering him to stay around the cowboy all day. He should have known something was up right then and there. Hanzo glared at the side of the said dragon, hoping it could sense his annoyance even with its head tucked somewhere under McCree’s leg and covers.

“I mean, not that I’m complaining wakin’ up next to a pretty guy like ya an’ all, but it kinda throws a man when he gets teleported somewhere in his sleep like this,” McCree rambled on. Hanzo’s gaze snapped up to him with wide eyes, his mind fixating to a single word escaping the cowboy’s mouth. _Pretty_. McCree thought he was pretty? Was he being genuine or was it just an off-hand compliment he liked to throw around? Did he really mean it? Was there something more to it? Hanzo realized he was staring when he heard a noise akin to whimper coming from the man in question. _Was that a blush?!_

“I-I mean… uh… that is to say… I should…” McCree stammered, chewing on his bottom lip and drawing Hanzo’s attention immediately to the action. It had to be a nervous habit - not that Hanzo could gather what the man was being nervous about while his brain was slowly imploding in on itself at the thought of McCree being in his room, sharing a bed with him, blushing, and worrying that beautiful, enticing lower lip of his…

“H-Hanzo, you alright there?”

“Hm?” Hanzo snapped out of his thoughts, realizing he was still staring with his eyes wide and his body leaning subconsciously closer as if drawn by McCree’s presence. He thanked any and every entity that was listening that Sora’s weight kept him in place and didn’t allow the movement to be very notable; otherwise he might have just found himself on McCree’s lap before he even realized what he was doing. A scowl crept on his face as he silently scolded himself to get a grip and stop acting like a lustful schoolboy. He needed to protect McCree, not jump his bones.

Hanzo schooled his features as well as he could and turned his gaze back to McCree, who had stopped talking and was now regarding him with an uncertain gaze that reminded him way too much of a kicked puppy. It made his heart melt, and brought a new scowl on his face at the realization he was well and truly done for. McCree grimaced.

“Uh, if ya maybe wouldn’t mind helping me get out from under here, I’ll be outta your hair the second I can, I promise,” he said softly. It took a few moments for Hanzo to realize how hostile his reactions had to seem to the more or less kidnapped man next to him. He mirrored McCree’s expression, shaking his head and starting to slowly pull himself towards the wall at the head of his bed to get out from under the weight of his spirit dragon. When he was finally in a sitting position, legs still trapped but otherwise free, he moved his gaze to stare at the sparkling blue creature on him, running a hand through the white hair cascading on his lap from its back.

“Forgive me, McCree, I did not mean to be so curt with you,” Hanzo apologized barely audibly. He could see McCree’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise from the corner of his eye. “This past day has been… extremely unnerving. And I believe you have been dragged into it without your consent. It is my fault.” Hanzo gulped and kept his gaze firmly on the pearly strands. Sora had lifted its head somewhere from under his comforter, its ethereal eyes following his ministrations and glancing towards McCree every so often. He had to tell him. He had to offer some kind of explanation, anything, he owed McCree that much. He took a deep breath. “They are bothering you like this because of how I fee-”

Hanzo was cut off abruptly when his room’s door suddenly slid open, revealing a quick flash of green shooting forward with a start of a sentence in Japanese.

“Brother! I must speak with you, I-. Oh,” Genji stopped like he had hit an invisible wall, his head tilting slightly as he took in the scene before him. McCree was still staring at Hanzo, his mouth slightly open and expression something between pained and hopeful, while Hanzo’s attention had snapped to the interrupting cyborg, his face deeply flushed. Haru had lifted its head from beneath the covers at Genji’s arrival, and was now untwining its long body from McCree’s, slithering off the bed and floating peacefully through the air, shrinking as it went. Soon enough, the dragon had found a new resting place on Genji’s shoulder, pressing its face on the side of his visor and looking more content than it had any right to be.

Genji was the first to recover from the awkwardness settled in the room.

“Well. I did not expect to find you here, McCree, but it is good to see you two have finally-”

“Genji,” Hanzo interrupted with a low, warning voice, making the cyborg stop and then sigh.

“No?” Hanzo shook his head. Genji sighed again, glancing at McCree whose brows had furrowed, but who was otherwise still like he hadn’t noticed he had been freed from the dragon pinning him to the bed. “Shame. But I still need to talk to you,” the cyborg said like nothing had happened, and for a moment Hanzo was relieved Genji chose not to address the situation with anything more lewd; and then he realised how serious the situation had to be for him to leave such a good opportunity unused. Genji didn’t wait for either one of them to react, instead taking a couple swift steps forward and jumping gracefully on the foot of McCree’s bed, flopping himself down to sit cross-legged on the covers when the owner of the bed pulled himself up into a sitting position and out of the way. Hanzo’s eyes moved to the cowboy immediately, gaze traveling over the naked upper body just revealed to him. McCree was how Hanzo remembered it from the last time he had happened to catch a glimpse of him shirtless; well defined muscles with an enticing softness to them, a downright adorable bump at his lower stomach, dark skin littered with a collection of scars of all kinds.

“I’ll just, uh, go and give you two some privacy,” McCree said, glancing at Hanzo, who quickly averted his eyes, and then moving to leave the bed. He barely managed to move an inch before Haru leaped down from Genji’s shoulder, landing against McCree’s chest and sliding down to his lap upon impact with a small screech. The cowboy stopped and looked down at the small dragon staring at him like it was trying to control his mind. McCree smiled softly and pat Haru’s head with a couple of gentle fingers.

“You know as much as I like ya, I can’t be around here all the time,” he said with a small chuckle. The dragon looked scandalized at the words. “Besides, I ain’t even got any clothes, I need ta-,” McCree blinked as Haru suddenly disappeared into the thin air. Then, merely a second later, it appeared back where it had been in the cowboy’s lap, but this time a very familiar hat in its jaws. McCree blinked in surprise, smile slowly rising to his lips, a heartfelt laugh starting to bubble from him as he picked up the hat and pressed it on his messy locks. “Well, thank ya kindly,” he said, the laughter crinkling the corners of his eyes with mirth.

Hanzo could feel his heart jump in his chest, aching to move closer and touch the laugh lines so obvious even in the darkness of the room. He wanted to reach out and put his hand on McCree’s jaw, caress his cheek and feel the happiness so clear on his face. He wanted to kiss the laughter off McCree’s lips to see how it tasted, feel the happy curve of those beautiful lips under his own.

Hanzo didn’t realise he was staring again, a small smile on his own lips as he watched McCree with all encompassing fondness, before Genji cleared his throat pointedly and both of them jumped. He had almost forgotten his brother was still in the room, too invested in watching McCree laugh.

“It is fine if you stay, McCree, you will find out soon either way, and I would rather not fight Haru about it,” Genji said, watching Haru curl into McCree’s lap and poke the cowboy’s fingers with its snout until they started scratching its head again. “I’m afraid we have a situation in our hands,” he continued, the serious tint to his usually light voice becoming more obvious. “The Shimada castle has been compromised.”

Hanzo’s eyebrows shot up and his back straightened at the words. It had been well over a year since his last visit to Hanamura. He didn’t have an excuse to go back anymore now that he knew Genji to be alive, and had thought it better to keep a low profile in that part of the world until the assassins on his heels decided he wasn’t coming back. The mansion still belonged to him on paper, and with the rest of the Shimada clan gone, he had assumed nobody would be interested in the old building. The only people still there were supposed to be the caretakers that received their payments automatically through a shady bank account Hanzo hadn’t cared touching.

“We have reason to believe Talon has started raiding every and all Shimada property now that no one is preventing them from doing so. We do not know if they have infiltrated the manor yet, and if yes, if they are still there, but we all know it will not end well if Talon gets their grimy hands on Shimada intel,” Genji said, pausing to glance quickly at McCree. “Reyes has been filling Winston in on Talon plans and activities ever since we got him back into his right mind. According to him, Talon has been intending to attack Shimada clan for information and power for couple decades now, ever since Father turned their offer of an alliance down. They never succeeded in their attempts against our family before, but now… I fear we have given them a free pass to our family secrets, brother, by wiping out the rest. Reyes says the plans had been put on hold because Talon had ‘better things to do’, but with him gone from their ranks as a source of Overwatch intel, he believes they are attempting to secure new ways to get information. It is rumored they have already made deals with other yakuza families, but none is as influential as ours was. Especially when it comes to our connections with the whole world,” Genji finished, falling silent and watching his now grim companions.

Hanzo’s frown was deep as he thought about what he had just heard. They had captured Reyes and a few others a couple months ago. At first, they had been prisoners for information, but soon enough, mostly thanks to Angela, they had realised a pattern of advanced mental conditioning and mind controlling. It had taken some weeks, but eventually Angela had found a way to undo the work and remove Talon’s grasp of Reyes and the infamous Talon sniper called Amélie, with a surprising help from an unknown woman who called herself Sombra, but who didn’t seem to exist in any database Overwatch had an access to, legal or less so. Mostly the latter.

Hanzo didn’t need to hear anything more to know what was going to happen next.

“When are we leaving?” he asked, poking at Sora’s side to get it off him. The dragon moved obediently this time, shrinking in size so it could float around more freely in the confined space of the room.

“In three hours. Winston is currently tracking down as much information of the situation as he possibly can and deciding on a team composition. We are, of course, given, and I insisted McCree to be put on the team for obvious reasons,” Genji replied, tilting his head towards McCree, who looked surprised at the information. Not that he hadn’t already been mentally preparing to the coming mission, but hearing that his presence had been insisted was unexpected.

“Not to be dumb or anythin’, but mind tellin’ me what those ‘obvious reasons’ are?” McCree asked, lifting an eyebrow in question. Genji regarded him for a short moment, and then chuckled softly.

“The same reasons you are here in my brother’s room right now, I’m afraid. Haru is not very keen on letting you out of its sight, and its place is at Hanzo’s side. Unless you want to fight a dragon about this, there is really nothing any of us can do,” Genji said flatly. Hanzo could sense the pointed look thrown at his way when the cyborg finished his last sentence, earning a glare from him for his troubles.

“I’m not complaining, was just surprised is all, I ain’t got anything against goin’ on a mission and kickin’ some Talon ass while I’m at it,” McCree said, apparently satisfied with the answer, and went to stand up from the bed, Haru clinging to his scarred shoulder.

Even with the serious news and coming threat hanging in the air, Hanzo couldn’t help but let his eyes drop on the almost naked cowboy when he was finally completely uncovered by the blanket. He didn’t know if he was relieved or disappointed McCree was wearing a rather gaudy, horseshoe patterned boxers to bed as his gaze traveled over the muscled back and strong thighs, watching how the boxers slid just a tad lower when the man lifted his arms in a stretch. The small mixture of yawn and a moan escaping McCree’s lips didn’t help the matters at all, and Hanzo found himself freezing in place halfway out of the foot of his bed, simply staring in wonder how anyone could possibly look that appetizing.

“Brother. Please.”

Hanzo started what had to be the millionth time during the past couple days, whipping his gaze to Genji, who somehow managed to look extremely exasperated now standing next to him. A painful yelp sounded from the door of the room a moment later, caused by Haru suddenly tugging McCree from his hair with its jaws when the man attempted to leave the room. Hanzo grimaced as he watched the cowboy berate the dragon for it, and switched to Japanese with his answer just to be safe.

“I tried to tell him, Genji. Just before you barged in. I… I do not want to, but it is not fair for him. It’s my fault he has to go through this, and he deserves to know why,” Hanzo said softly, motioning towards the extra bed where Sora was currently exploring under the messily strewn blanket. Genji stayed silent and waited for him to continue, simply regarding him thoughtfully. “If I am being honest, I have to say I was relieved when you interrupted us. I fear my confession might make things worse for him. Sometimes ignorance is bliss, and I do not know how he might react knowing I am… what I have done to him,” Hanzo continued, pain and desperation sounding in his quiet voice. He knew Genji would understand that pain. His brother had seen it better than anyone else, had known how much it hurt Hanzo to live with his past actions. Even when the archer had no control over a situation like the one he was in now, he blamed himself for it. Even when anything bad had yet to happen.

“I am glad you plan to tell him. Were going to tell him. Take it from someone who knows you both very well, you do not need to fear for his reaction. Jesse understands your pain better than you would think he does, and I know he won’t blame you for this, nor your feelings. I have it on good authority that he might be more pleased than unhappy to hear what lies in your heart, brother,” Genji said, matching Hanzo’s solemn tone. The archer’s brows shot up in surprise and tentative hope, and he moved his gaze back towards McCree, watching him clearly argue with the small dragon about leaving the room to get his clothes. Haru seemed to think the hat was more than enough clothing going by the purring and growling when McCree tried to explain the creature he needed a little more than that to be decent. Fondness bloomed in Hanzo’s chest at the sight and he couldn’t help the wistful smile rising to his lips. Genji was so confident in urging him on, but Hanzo still couldn’t help but fear the idea that the cyborg would be wrong. He trusted his brother’s judgement, as odd as it sometimes felt like, and he knew it was the right thing to do.

Somewhere under McCree’s bed Hanzo’s phone alarm went off, signaling it was time to wake up and face yet another day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things are getting a bit more serious here, but don't worry, it won't be too heavy or horrible!


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hanzo blushes a lot and some backstories happen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Sorry for taking so long to update. I haven't had almost any time to write the past month, but hopefully that won't last and the next chapter won't take this insanely long. Hopefully. But this story is definitely not abandoned, so don't worry! I intend to get this finished even if some chapters come a bit slowly.
> 
> Thank you everyone who has left kudos and commented, I read all the comments even though I don't always reply, and I appreciate every single one of them! They really make my day :)
> 
> Enjoy!

“Hey! Gimme back my belt buckle!”

A loud crash made Hanzo turn around on his heels where he had been determinedly staring out of the window in McCree’s room. Their routine of getting ready to leave for a mission hadn’t gone as smoothly as it usually did; Haru hadn’t let McCree leave Hanzo’s room without its master, to the point it had blocked the doorway with its humongous body to prevent the cowboy from exiting until Hanzo had been ready to follow along. Sora hadn’t been any better; when Hanzo tried to leave McCree to go help with the weapons and other necessities, the dragon had bit him and tugged at his hair and clothes until he gave up with a sigh and followed McCree to his room, hoping it would placate the pair of unruly spirits and quicken the process at least a little bit.

Of course, it hadn’t been that easy.

Hanzo watched McCree disentangle himself from an ancient bedside lamp cord, the lamp itself lying broken on the floor at his feet, while Haru ran across the bed and floor to scramble up its master’s leg to settle on his shoulder. McCree’s shiny golden belt buckle was neatly tucked into its snout like a priceless treasure the dragon planned on hiding somewhere safe. Hanzo let out a long suffering sigh when that “somewhere safe” turned out to be inside his shirt. He shivered at the cold metal sliding down his chest and stomach, quickly tucking his T-shirt out of his pants to fish the offending buckle out before McCree had the chance to come too close and do so himself, or before the buckle managed to slide even lower inside his clothing. Or both. He was certain that had been Haru’s plan, given the small huff that followed.

“Behave,” Hanzo snapped at the dragon in Japanese, throwing the buckle on the messy bed next to McCree and turning around again. The cowboy didn’t need to see the incriminating blush rising to his cheeks from the idea of having his hands on him. He could hear McCree mumbling to himself while dressing up, rapid string of Spanish words Hanzo dared to guess were swears. If he turned his head slightly to take a peek of the cowboy’s backside when the man bowed down to pick up his shirt, he didn’t admit it to himself. He was simply checking if the man was ready yet, and not at all watching him from the corner of his eye the whole time. After all, McCree was the most interesting thing in the otherwise blank and generic room; while most agents had decorated their own in some way or another, McCree, like Hanzo himself, seemed to treat his designated quarters as little more than somewhere to sleep. It was difficult to make home somewhere when you were used to being on the run for years after years, even with the routine that came from being in Overwatch. The possibility that it might not last kept Hanzo from getting too comfortable in his little room, and he was willing to bet the same was true for McCree.

The clinking of spurs pulled Hanzo out of his thoughts. He turned around again to see McCree pulling his boots on, the worn hat sitting next to him on the bed, but otherwise dressed. Hanzo moved before he had the time to think about it, picking up the offending item and placing it gently on top of McCree’s head where it belonged. The cowboy looked up from his boots with surprise, his brown eyes glinting with amber as they met Hanzo’s for just a moment - and then Hanzo turned and walked to the door, hiding a shy smile and a small blush that accompanied it. To his relief, McCree said nothing, simply lifted a hand to the hat and huffed with a hint of fondness Hanzo refused to analyze. Hanzo waited at the door while McCree went to his closet to pull out an already packed black duffel bag, not surprised he was prepared to leave on a moment’s notice. Neither said a word after that before they had already found their way to the hangar housing the plane that would take them to Hanamura, the dragons perched on Hanzo’s shoulders purring quietly to each other the whole walk there.

Upon entering the hangar, the two got a first look of their designated team; unsurprisingly, Reyes was there, looking as gloomy as ever while engaged into a deep conversation with Angela and hauling the last couple crates of weapons inside the ship. Hanzo could see Hana lounging inside the ship already, making herself comfortable on the couch lining one corner of it, playing with a handheld console and swatting at Genji whenever the cyborg tried to take control of the device. Next to the open door to the ship stood Ana, Lena, and Winston, the latter perking up when he noticed the pair entering.

“Ah, good, we were just about to finish getting everything ready!” the gorilla announced, waving Hanzo and McCree closer, not noticing the near petulant glare Reyes threw at the lot of them while dropping the last box inside the aircraft with a pointed _clank_.

“Forgive us for taking so long. My dragons were being… difficult,” Hanzo said, glancing at the harmless looking creatures on his shoulders. Winston waved the apology off with an encouraging smile.

“Not to worry, Genji already explained to me that you might be having problems with them, and that I should keep you two close to each other during the mission because of it,” he assured them, continuing regardless of the suspicious glance Hanzo threw towards his brother. “So I took the liberty of assigning you as partners for this mission. We’ll go through the briefing while we’re in the air. Shall we?” Winston addressed the last two sentences to the whole hangar, motioning towards the aircraft and almost hitting Lena in the head with a wave of his giant arm. The girl avoided the hit just barely, keeping the confident grin on her face.

“I’ll be your designated pilot for this evening, so buckle up and let’s get going!” Lena said with way too much enthusiasm for the situation, blinking straight into the plane, almost running into Genji on her way in. The cyborg had given up on trying to steal Hana’s game, and was now standing at the door of the aircraft, watching Hanzo and McCree thoughtfully. Hanzo simply shook his head at him as he passed the cyborg, making his way on the couch next to Hana and sighing deeply. McCree sat next to him a second after, his leg pressing to Hanzo’s comfortably and causing Sora to slither down Hanzo’s arm to nudge its body between the two men, pushing their thighs effectively apart. Hanzo frowned, but decided not to comment, only watching Haru float down and curl over all three of them with a content look on its tiny face.

Hanzo watched the people settle around the aircraft, comforted by the familiarity of the somber and expectant feeling of going for a mission. There hadn’t been enough of them lately for him, and the downtime had gotten him antsy more than once. It was good to be back in the business, even if it was something as personal as his family’s legacy.

Hanzo was pulled out of his thoughts when his gaze wandered over the opposite side of the open space under the basketball hoop, where Reyes was seemingly doing the last checkup of their gear; but while his hands were still resting on the shelf housing part of the items, his eyes were trained directly at him and McCree. Even without the hood or the creepy mask the man donned during missions, Reyes’ glare was menacing all in its own.

Not one to give in during a glaring contest, Hanzo kept a level gaze and stared right back until Reyes averted his dark eyes and dropped his gaze to watch the dragons laying next to them. McCree had started petting Haru’s back idly, his fingers brushing against Hanzo’s thigh every now and then lightly, and for a moment the archer wondered how he hadn’t noticed it before he glanced down again. Then the realization that it must have been what Reyes was looking at as well hit him, and he was more than happy that Winston chose the time to call everyone to gather round. Maybe Reyes would be distracted enough not to catch the slowly rising blush that was taking over his cheeks more and more at every small brush of McCree’s fingers.

“Alright, gang,” Wistons started, ignoring Hana’s incredulous mouthing of “gang?!” and moving to set down stack of old fashioned case files. The quiet thrum of the plane’s engines roared to life at the same moment, Lena already sitting at the front on the pilot’s seat about to take them off as Winston briefed the rest of them. “The goal of this mission is to secure the Shimada databases and make sure none of the intel they possess end up in Talon hands. When we land, we will scout the perimeter of the Shimada estate, and then gather back to the ship directly after to make further plans if necessary. At approximately 8.00 pm, if everything goes as we expect, we are sending two teams inside the castle to dispatch possible Talon forces and retrieve the data stored in the databases. Team one consists of Genji and Reaper. Team two, Hanzo and McCree. Now, this is a stealth mission,” Winston said, pausing to give an attempt of intimidating glare at all four mentioned, stopping at McCree the longest, “so no unnecessary flare. You get in, take care of business, and get out as quietly as possible. When the data has been extracted with these,” Winston handed over four small flash drives, black with a small A printed to the side with light blue, “you will need to pluck in one of these,” he showed four other small flash drives, these red instead of black. “The virus program stored in this flash drive will corrupt and destroy everything in its wake, so it’s extremely important you will get all the possible data out first.

“If something goes wrong, the rest of us will be there for backup. We are positioning D.Va, Tracer, Mercy, and Ana right outside the estate grounds for that express purpose, and I stress this; if _anything_ goes wrong, call for them. Do not take unnecessary risks. We don’t want to lose any of you,” Winston eyed the two teams, looking like he already knew none of them would follow this specific rule. “I will be positioned here in the ship and keep in contact with you at all times, monitoring the estate through Athena’s drones and satellite. Hopefully, I will catch any disturbances before they get to you. Any questions?” he ended, eyeing the whole team gathered around the table. When nobody volunteered any question, Winston nodded solemnly. “Good. We have five hours to go before we land at Hanamura. I advise you to use the time mentally preparing yourself and resting.”

With that, Winston turned around and made his way to the cockpit to accompany Lena, leaving the rest on their own devices. Ana picked up a file and started perusing it with a thoughtful quirk of her brow. Reyes half walked and half floated back to where he had been, still keeping an eye on Hanzo and McCree. Hana went back to her game, and Genji followed swiftly. McCree leaned closer to Hanzo, so close the archer could feel the hot breath brush against his jaw as the other spoke.

“You doin’ alright there?” the cowboy asked gently, nudging his side with his arm. Hanzo hesitated and let his gaze fall down to the two dragons between them. It wasn’t the first time he had challenged either Talon or the Shimadas, but going back to the town and house he had grown up in felt different this time. This time, he had Genji with him, alive and well, on a mission together with a shared goal. This time, he wasn’t bringing incense with him to honor a loved one he thought he had murdered. He wouldn’t be pausing to the grand hall of the dojo to mourn and apologize with guilt heavy on his shoulders. For ten years it had been the only reason he had returned to Hanamura, and then thought he would never return. He shook his head slowly.

“It is… odd to be going back home so soon,” Hanzo said softly, frowning at the feel of _home_ on his tongue. The Shimada castle hadn’t been home for him for some time, not even in the wistful thoughts of _what if_. For a while now, a true home for him had been the Gibraltar Overwatch base as much as he originally had loathed to accept it as such.

“I hear ya, I’d be feeling awful off if I had to go back to the Swiss headquarters now even after all these years. Just wouldn’t feel right, with all that happened there. All the memories too,” McCree said, moving his hand on Hanzo’s thigh as a comforting gesture. It aroused the attention of the dragons between them, and soon enough Sora was pushing its way under McCree’s palm, separating it from Hanzo, but letting the hand stay laying on top of it when McCree didn’t immediately pull off. He smiled.

“Well would ya look at that, this lil fella is finally starting to take a likin’ to me,” he said, pleased.

Sora huffed indignantly, and bit his finger.

 

***

 

Scouting around the Shimada estate turned out to be one of the most boring missions they had been on so far. For Hanzo, standing still and keeping an eye on a specific spot from higher ground for hours wasn’t that unusual. McCree, however, had started getting agitated after twenty minutes. After a full hour of constant fidgeting, Hanzo gave up the silence with a sigh.

“For someone who has been a part of multiple high end stake outs and delicate stealth missions, you are being surprisingly restless after so little time,” he commented flatly without taking his eyes from the familiar shrine he was watching, interrupting McCree’s playing with the spur attached to his gun. He had never thought the garnish decoration could be used as a fidget toy, but then McCree had always been weirdly resourceful.

“ _Naw, never been that good with just sittin’ around doin’ nothin’,_ ” McCree’s voice announced through the comm somewhere under him; the cowboy was standing on a walkway that traveled over most of the town here and there, keeping an eye on the front entryway of the estate, while Hanzo crouched on the roof of the nearest building. He was high enough not to be able to talk with the cowboy properly, but it would only took a glance down to see him. _“Why don’t you come down here and keep me some company, darlin’? It oughta get suspicious when a handsome guy like you just sits on a roof like a bird all day long.”_

Hanzo could feel the small blush rising on his cheeks when McCree spoke. He could hear the grin through the honeyed voice, the small tint of hopefulness trailing the edges of his words. For a moment he considered ignoring the smooth request, but he knew McCree was right; even donned in his new high collared jacket and simple pair of dark jeans instead of the kyudo-gi he was known for, sitting on a roof high above the town where no normal person could get to would raise suspicions. Especially when it was right next to the infamous Shimada estate, and for prolonged periods of time.

Sighing, Hanzo slid down from the roof, scaling down the wall, and dropped gracefully next to McCree, startling the man. He must have assumed his words had fallen on deaf ears, going by the surprised, and then pleased, expression appearing on his tan face.

“Well, thank ya kindly. You see anything worth while up there anyway at all?” the cowboy asked, plopping down to sit on the edge of the walkway and patting the space next to him with renewed confidence. Haru took the moment to peek from under McCree’s collar, tilting its head at its master in a reflection of the hopefulness shining in McCree’s eyes. It was a good thing the two dragons had seemingly agreed with Hanzo’s request to keep hidden in public; Sora snaked around his own neck, and Haru somewhere under McCree’s toned down appearance of a dark leather jacket and jeans. Hanzo tried very hard not to think how well their outfits matched at the moment, regardless of the fact McCree had somehow managed to find a black, less decorated but just as worn version of his cowboy hat from somewhere. Hanzo hadn’t seen him take it with him, and didn’t dare ask where that had come from.

Shaking his head, Hanzo sat down next to McCree, pointedly moving his gaze toward the front doors of his old home. The Shimada logo of two dragons devouring each other greeted him with their ominous stares, a familiar and, in its own way, comforting sight. If he tilted his head to his right, he could see the front entrance to the arcade he had dragged Genji out of many times in their youth, and the Rikimaru ramen shop they had often had lunch in. The whole town was full of memories, both good and bad, but as he watched people buzzing by, he could only recall the ones filling him with fondness. He glanced at McCree again; the man seemed content not getting a proper answer for his question, most likely having assumed it beforehand. He was fiddling with the hem of his red plaid shirt that was peeking under the leather jacket, humming under his breath like a man with no worries and all the time in the world in his hands. With how still and silent it had been inside the Shimada estate so far, Hanzo started wondering if that really was the case.

“Have you ever been to Hanamura before?” he asked suddenly, interrupting the comfortable silence that had descended upon them.

“A few times back when I was still in Blackwatch. Ya know, I’m a bit surprised we never met back then,” McCree mused, throwing a crooked smile at his way. “You an’ Genji were big targets the first two times I was in here, but I never saw neither of ya, not once. The third time I was in here was when Genji was with us. Reckon you had taken off by then,” he continued, scratching his scruffy beard thoughtfully, like he was deep in one memory or another.

Hanzo nodded slowly. He had left immediately after he had struck Genji down, horrified and disgusted with himself when his rage cooled and he realized what he had done. He had fled the scene, fled Hanamura and the elders of the Shimada clan. It had been too late by then, and he had wished many times he had seen what he was becoming before that very moment.

“Now, darlin’, don’t look so sad, you’re breakin’ my lil ol’ heart here.” A gentle hand pressed against Hanzo’s lower back with the soft words, and he looked up to see McCree smiling at him, his honey tinted eyes shining with a mixture of understanding and sympathy. An instinct told Hanzo to both shove him off and deny that comfort, and to pull him in and kiss the smile off his face. He bit his lip in indecision, his breath hitching minutely when McCree’s eyes flitted to it and back up to his own again. It would only take a small movement to lean in. Only a tiny little sway of his upper body to feel that smiling mouth against his own.

_“Can you lovebirds can it and focus? We’re on a mission here.”_

Hanzo jumped and pulled away from McCree’s touch, practically flying up to his feet with wild eyes, accompanied by a small shriek when Sora, having been slowly snaking towards McCree, fell from his shoulder and grabbed a hold of his jeans. It stared up at its master with an offended look on its face, but Hanzo ignored it in favor of searching for the source of disturbance. He spotted the black figure standing a top of a high wall, shrouded in shadows that weren’t all natural, at the same time McCree answered his comm.

“Gee, Gabe, thanks for the heart attack. Really, appreciate it,” he said sarcastically, rolling his eyes and getting up much slower than Hanzo had. “It’s not like nothing’s happening’ here anyway, best we’ve had so far is a coupla of tourists tryin’ to translate that sign on the door. A man’s gotta pass his time somehow,” McCree continued smoothly. Hanzo, still glaring pointedly at the creepy, too dark shadow on the other side of the street, tried not to think too hard on those words. McCree wasn’t denying the fact Reyes had called them _lovebirds_ of all things, but his words didn’t help the ache settling in his chest either. He didn’t know what to make of McCree, or the heavy moment they had experienced just before.

There was a sound through the comm that sounded vaguely like a dissatisfied grunt, and then; _“go take a walk, McCree.”_

 _“Hold on a second, we still need to-,”_ Winston’s voice interrupted, but was quickly cut off by Reyes.

_“We’re not going to find anything by lurking around and staring, Winston. If they’re already in there, they obviously aren’t going to show themselves until they leave, so if you’re not suggesting we barge in right now, it’s better we let the kid stretch his legs.”_

“Hey! I ain’t a kid no more!” McCree’s protest fell on deaf ears, only heard by Hanzo, who gave him an amused look over Reyes’ voice continuing like nothing had happened.

 _“I’m staying here with the ninja boy to keep an eye on the place in case Talon decides to make an appearance.”_ The words sounded final, leaving no room for argument regardless of the fact Winston was in charge. It was more than obvious Gabriel Reyes was a leader by character, only shown more when McCree shrugged petulantly, muttering under his breath about the nickname, but not even stopping think about arguing with the command to take a walk.

Hanzo glanced once more towards the familiar grounds, and followed.

“You still fall very easily under his command,” Hanzo commented after a moment of walking in silence. McCree kept to the walkways over most of the crowd, his eyes glazed over and somewhere far away. He hummed softly at Hanzo’s words, a quiet affirmation. It seemed like he wasn’t going to elaborate further, and Hanzo was just fine with that. He would not push something like this. Eventually, however, he proved Hanzo’s assumption wrong.

“He knows me too well. Knows if I get too agitated I’m not much of a use when we gotta go sneakin’ around,” McCree mused, stopping to watch an entrance to a seemingly ordinary shop selling trinkets for tourists. “He was like a father to me, ya know? I never had a real dad growing up, just me an’ ma… and she passed when I was twelve. That’s how I ended up with Deadlock in the first place, they found me roaming the streets, just a dumb kid carryin’ a beat up gun. Thought I was in real trouble an’ almost shot one of ‘em. They figured I got spunk and told me I could be useful. I guess they regretted that choice a few years later, huh,” McCree said, talking more at the walkway and the shops below them than Hanzo, but he didn’t mind. “Gabe picked me up when I was just a few months to seventeen. He’s the one who insisted I get taken into Blackwatch, even though nobody else liked that idea. Didn’t trust me, the lot of ‘em. Can’t blame ‘em really, I wouldn’ta have trusted me either. But he persisted. Never understood what he saw in me. What made him think I’d be any way worthy of the chance he insisted givin’ me. After all the horrible things I had done.” McCree paused to take a deep breath, his good hand digging inside his pocket and pulling out a half smoked cigar. Hanzo watched him light it up, his eyes closing at the first drag, the heavy smoke rolling out with a wistful sigh.

Hanzo stopped right next to him, his gaze falling to the shop below them as well when he spoke, voice soft and full of empathy as he watched a woman with bright red hair walk through the doors; “I know that feeling. It is difficult to accept anyone could truly forgive you for your past. That at any moment they will turn around and reveal it is not real. How could anyone give you their trust after… after everything?” Hanzo sighed, shaking his head. Then, a small smile tugged at the corner of his lips. “But you, you are a good man, McCree. Better than most. Whatever you did back then, you have spend years atoning. That is what makes you ultimately a good person. You made your mistakes, but you did not stay on that path. You know what you have done was wrong, and you are taking the responsibility for your actions. Is that not what good people do?”

McCree looked conflicted as he took another drag of his cigar, obviously wanting to argue, but not finding the right words to do so. Eventually, he gave up, a sad smile gracing his lips when he turned to regard Hanzo.

“That goes for you too, ya know,” he said pointedly, looking straight into Hanzo’s eyes, a look that challenged him to take his words back. Hanzo relented. As much as he wanted to deny it having anything to do with himself, he had trapped them both in the sentiment. It made him realize just how similar they were under all the menial differences on the surface.

Hanzo was first to break the eyecontact, looking back down towards the small shop and its patrons, ignoring the small purring sound coming from around his neck.

After that, the conversation turned into more lighthearted topics. Hanzo talked about the times he had sneaked out with or without Genji in his youth, between his training sessions and in the midst of night, sometimes climbing down the cliffside sporting the far wall of the Shimada castle. McCree talked about his adventures in the town when he had been there, the troubles he had gotten into and the lectures he had had to listen to when Reyes had caught him doing things he shouldn’t have done. They didn’t continue their little walk, instead opting on sitting down where they were while McCree smoked, watching the people under them and every now and then pointing at something interesting or funny they saw.

Hanzo frowned as something peculiar occurred to him. He could see most of the shop through the windows from the high walkway they were standing on, a small little place with only one entrance. Nothing suspicious, certainly nothing any local would have glanced twice at, but relatively popular among tourists especially during this time of year. The traffic in and out of the place was a constant stream, but the longer Hanzo stood there watching, the more obvious was the fact that more people walked into the shop than out of it. The redheaded woman that had caught his attention hadn’t come back out yet, and when Hanzo peered through the windows, she was nowhere to be seen. Just like many others passing by. He blinked, and looked around.

“McCree…” Hanzo said slowly, interrupting the cowboy’s tale of the first time he had visited Hanamura and insisted on seeing every tourist boutique there was to find a perfect lighter to remember it by. McCree cocked an eyebrow at him, watching him as he looked around them, counting the shops and even glancing behind them.

“McCree,” Hanzo repeated after a pregnant pause, “I know why we did not see anyone move inside the grounds or around it. Talon is not using the proper entrances.” Hanzo grimaced, annoyed with himself it hadn’t occurred to him before now. “They are using the secret passages that run underground below the city.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Next chapter will see some more action, I promise!


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